muse

Crappy night last night. Rehearsal ran more than half an hour late, and I sliced open my foot on a very nasty, clawed chunk of glass, so I didn’t even get dinner until 10:00 (Steve is sweet and doesn’t eat until I get home, so I get especially antsy when things are behind schedule), and I was bleeding to boot. Then I snuggled with my very fuzzy cat, which I shouldn’t have done, because I’m slightly allergic to him and I know it. But last night my nose decided it was REALLY allergic to him and my head completely exploded. I couldn’t breathe, I felt kinda dizzy and spatially off and nauseous. Fun fun fun. I didn’t sleep much as a result. Man, I HATE that feeling. So I’m a little dazed and headachy today. Joy.

This week’s Mirage show is “Bedouin Night”, which should be interesting - we decorate the stage like a giant tent and do some sort of desert-meets-harem look with pillows and food and stuff. And the dancing has no emcee; instead, the music will flow from one person’s solo to the next, with the rest of us sitting on stage watching and hanging out and playing instruments if we feel like it. And of course, all the costumes and music choicies will fall more in the ethnic/tribal/gypsy category, rather than the Egyptian cabaret-style stuff we usually do. I’m looking forward to it, I guess. I wasn’t going to do a solo, but we are a little short on guests (there is a whole troupe coming in from San Antonio, but none of the girls want to solo, apparently), so I got talked into it. Ugh. I’m thinking short drum thing. Short. Drum. I can do that.

What else? We did indeed end up getting the santoku online. I’m very excited - it should be here Thursday. We debated hard about the chef’s knife, but since we have one already and the price on the santoku was so good, we went that route instead. As good little members of the consumerist American society, we also got a new vacuum cleaner last week. Steve went crazy while I was at spin and vacuumed the ENTIRE apartment. And this one has one of those little “clean/dirty” light indicators, so he went going until everythign showed up clean. Um … WOW. He filled the canister PACKED full. The dust and cat hair and everything was unbelievable. Almost embarassing, somehow, although it was proof positive that we were overdue for a new machine. The apartment even SMELLS better now. It’s great.

Steve leaves Sunday to take thirty of his high schoolers to France on tour for Spring Break. I’ve been debating what to do while he is gone. I’m thinking the apartment needs to be scrubbed, badly, so maybe I’ll do a full-blown spring cleaning. Right. Like I’m home enough during the week to do that. Still, it is a noble ambition. People keep asking me if I’m bummed that I’m not going on the trip. I guess I kinda am. I would love to get out of the country (my feet are itchy), and I love France. They’re doing northern France (Caen, Normandy, Mont Saint Michel) and Paris. But spending a week of my precious time off (there are only two of them, and the count for all sick and vacation time combined) to accompany my husband while he works and herds thirty teenagers? Not so much.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, March 9th, 2005 at 10:17 am and is filed under General. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.